


A Queen and Her King

by Fabelhaft (Blue_Blood_Monarch)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Non Graphic, Oops, cant believe i havent written an arwen fic sooner, i guess, was not expexting to write something this close to smut but it had a mind of its own lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Blood_Monarch/pseuds/Fabelhaft
Summary: Maybe it was the threat to her life, or maybe it was because Lancelot was looking at her like he wanted nothing more than to spirit her away and lose himself in her body, that forced out this new side to Arthur.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	A Queen and Her King

Gwen had never seen Arthur as wild, as desperate, as she had when he saved her from those cruel, bloodthirsty brutes, and she hadn't seen it again since. Maybe it was the threat to her life, or maybe it was because Lancelot was looking at her like he wanted nothing more than to spirit her away and lose himself in her body, that forced out this new side to Arthur.

He oscillated between desperate and needy, demanding and possessive, to sweet and reverent, finally breaking through the self-imposed barrier between them that had led them to this whole mess.

"He was a fool to let you go so easily," he murmured into her skin that night, pressing her into the soft ground warmed by the fire not five metres away. "A bloody  _ fool _ ."

She had gasped as he mouthed at her throat, hand burying itself in his hair, stroking in an attempt to soothe this wild, desperate beast he had become. 

"I would have torn down the world for you, Guienvere," he swore. "I would have torn it down, one kingdom at a time, and built it up again in your image." He'd moved to her jaw, then, biting his way up her neck, burying his nose in her curls. His hands were a brand of fiery heat against her sides, even through her thin dress, and she could feel them tremble. "I would have conquered every kingdom if it meant I could call you my queen." She had at the reverent devotion, the possessive claim. "I'd have laid the world at your feet if it would have earned me your love."

"Arthur…" Her grip tightened, and he hissed, bearing more of his weight down on her as he continued to worship her. 

"I would  _ never _ walk away from you." He lifted his head to stare into her eyes, and her breath caught at the truth she saw there, the emotions he was uncharacteristically laying bare. "Not even death could stop me from being at your side, from loving you."  _ Unlike him _ , his eyes seemed to say. "I would bleed for you, fight for you,  _ die _ for you, but not for one moment would I abandon you." Love was writ across his face, and it snatched the very breath from her chest, settling in its place like it belonged. It felt  _ right.  _ She couldn't deny that, couldn't resist her want for him any longer.

Because he was here, and Lancelot was not, and that's what mattered. Because he had come to find her, and he hadn't left her side since. 

And in that moment, she knew in her bones, her very soul, that he never would. 

The only way they would separate now, untwine themselves from the One they had become, would be if it were because of her.

Her blood heated, at his words, his weight pressing her into the earth, his devotion, plain to see, at his snarling desperation for  _ her. _ She felt powerful, wanted, needed, and it sent her heart galloping in her chest like Arthur's war horse. 

He must have seen it all in her face, because he smiled, a paradoxical mix of sweetness and sharpness in its curve, and cradled her face with his hands, achingly tender. Finally,  _ finally, _ he pressed his lips to hers, plundering her mouth and leaving her breathless. 

"My Queen."

A single hand trailed down her stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She shuddered as it reached its destination, stroking. She ached with need. " _ Arthur _ ."

"Say it," he urged, right in her ear, fingers tightening where they gripped her hip. It sent a bolt of heat shooting down her spine, drawing a gasp from her lips that he swooped down to claim it, swallowing it eagerly. "Say you will be my queen, that you will let me love you.  _ Say it _ ." He was panting, demanding and pleading in the same breath. 

She reached to pull his lips back down to hers, claiming his mouth as he had hers. It added more heat to the pit of her stomach when he let her, when he turned pliant beneath her touch. "My King," she swore, "You will be my King and I your Queen until the end of time itself."

He bit her bottom lip, the sharp pain drawing a breathless moan from her. His hand finally plunging into her the way she wanted,  _ needed. _

"My Queen," he whispered, eyes wide and reverent as he watched her thrash and moan, as desperate for this as him. " _ Guinevere. _ " It was choked, and it was that, the need, the hunger, the  _ love _ , that send her tumbling off the edge and fracturing into a thousand pieces. 

" _ Arthur. _ "

Because it would always be Arthur.


End file.
